Resolution
by jazzbee26
Summary: This is based on the "vrfprompt" that voltageromancefans created a while back. I never posted it on tumblr, so I decided to submit it to Roni Pei's contest that ended (it didn't win but oh well congrats to the winner!). The prompt is "Kiyoto (IYAT) comes to visit his bartending mentor Kunihiko (MFW) and takes up a temp job at LI."
1. Chapter 1

The hot sun bore down on the single man as he walked along the bustling streets of Tokyo, a light sheen of sweat breaking out over his heated body. As he walked along wishing for some kind of refreshment to cool himself down (and maybe something other than this white button-down shirt to cover his skin), he realized belatedly that it might have been wiser to actually prepare for this trip rather than simply backpack it. He'd decided to stay for only a few nights, but perhaps it would have done him well to have packed a few more necessities considering the summer weather.

Women stared at him as he walked by, some openly pausing to watch his passing in admiration. An arrogant smirk snuck onto his handsome face. His appearance certainly drew the eye; he couldn't deny his physical allure when it was such an obvious trait. Despite the burning disappointment he felt over Miss, he perused his surroundings from behind the protection of his sunglasses, mostly because of habits being hard to break, or something like that. He eyed several of the women who glanced his way, but only those who had another man already linked on their arm or at least had the aura of being a taken woman. He couldn't even spare a glance for those who were obviously single.

He also made it a point to survey their left hands. More specifically their left ring fingers—sure, he didn't mind taking someone's girlfriend, but someone's wife? The thrill of the chase was infinitely more appealing, the satisfaction from his catch that much more gratifying. His sight had focused selectively on the opposite sex this way since high school.

A green light halted his stride. He found himself tuning the chatter around him out, surveying the passerby absently, when a sudden bright glare of sun on metal penetrated the glasses and hit his dark eyes, making him flinch. The striking image of that one unforgettable woman flashed through his mind.

He recalled the first moment he'd seen her with a startling clarity. The low clack of her heels struck his ears as she entered the bar. Her smooth, reddish-brown hair flowed softly down her back, mussed but not messy from the wind that blew outside. A somewhat forced smile twisting her face, she followed her friends in as they seated themselves at their high school reunion. As he watched her, he wondered what topic they were discussing to make her look so uncomfortable, and chuckled quietly to himself when the big-shot soccer player's declarations lit her face on fire; the ring on her finger gleamed under the fluorescent lights. He'd smirked to himself, knowing exactly who his next prey would be.

He never anticipated that _he_ would be the one ensnared instead.

Several shoulders and elbows hit him as the light flashed, signaling to pedestrians to cross. He _tsk_ed at himself, rolling his shoulders with irritation as he made his way across the street. Now wasn't the time to be thinking of Miss. He had come to enjoy a weekend vacation away from her memory, so he certainly didn't want her on his mind the whole time he was here. _Just for now, I'll banish all thoughts of her from my mind…no matter how difficult it is to do that, I have to try._

His decision to visit had been quite sudden. He didn't often travel, and despite his revived exchange plans to go to France, he'd never longed to; school and his job and painting consumed the majority of his time, and whatever he had left over he'd reserved for _her_. But that night just under a week ago—the conclusion of his relationship with the ever unattainable Miss—had sparked a superficial frustration in him. Left with a painful emptiness, he'd experienced a whimsical desire to visit his bartending mentor here in Tokyo. Why visit his mentor rather than indulge himself in another woman who could wash away his troubles? Who knew. There were some strange forces at work out there.

Soon enough, he had reached his mentor's bar's location in the high-end Azabu-Juban shopping district. The familiar exterior had him grinning with nostalgia, a strange and inappropriate sentiment for a young man such as himself.

"Long Island Sports Dining Bar," or just "Long Island" for short. The home of the world's most laid-back, carefree man ever. Even now he could recall the summer days here where he'd spent hours training for what (at the time) was no reason at all: cleaning the storage room, washing dishes, mixing drinks and serving the only group of customers that regularly came in. It had only been a couple of years since then, but he wondered if anything here had changed. _Nah_, he thought to himself_. It'll probably just be the usual gang, going through their daily routine, with the old man watching over them while he flips through a fortune telling book to learn ever more womanizing tricks._

He grinned. Bartending had only been one of many things he'd picked up from Kunihiko Aikawa.

With a long last look at the Long Island sign, Kiyoto Makimura pushed open the doors and crossed the threshold into a very familiar world.

At first sight, his suspicions were confirmed; absolutely nothing had changed.

The bar's cheerful atmosphere was welcoming and appealing. Midday light streaming in from the lengthy window wall illuminated the entire space, bathing every surface in a mysterious but warm glow. The stools and tables hadn't worn down a bit, the paint on the walls shone healthily, and only minute, nearly imperceptible scuffs marred the otherwise shining hardwood floors. The place was as totally empty as ever, but Kiyoto could tell from how well-kept it was that it still had business, if not for the sake of the regulars then because its owner hadn't stopped looking after the place for a moment.

He'd been taking a cursory look behind the counter, lost in reminiscent thoughts when he heard hurried footsteps approaching from down the hall. Anticipation of greeting his mentor for the first time in two years had him grinning ecstatically like a kid again.

He smiled boyishly as a shadow rounded the corner. He couldn't wait to see the look on Kunihiko's face when he saw who waited for him. "Yo! It's been a long time, Mr. Aik—"

"Kyaaah!"

Kiyoto's eyes flew open in shock at the feminine scream. Before him stood not Kunihiko Aikawa, lazy bum-assed President of one of the fastest growing IT companies in Japan, but a woman of unsettlingly familiar appeal who Kiyoto might have seduced if not for the dangerous situation he found himself in.

"A thief!" Her arms swung around wildly as she swatted at him with a metal clipboard. He lunged back out of reach; he could tell it'd hurt like hell if her hits connected, and anyway, he had no desire to risk scarring his face.

He leapt up onto the counter and jumped down to the other side to avoid her attacks. He displayed his hands clearly in an expression of surrender, trying to pacify her violence. "Wait a minute, Miss, I'm not a thief! Stop swinging, let me explain!"

She halted her assault to hear him out. "Who are you and what are you doing in here behind the counter? We haven't opened yet."

"I'm Kiyoto Makimura. I'm here to see Kunihiko Aikawa. Do you know where I can find him?"

"Kunihiko?" she repeated in bewilderment. "What business do you have with him?" A suspicious look crossed her features as she looked him up and down, some kind of realization dawning. "If you're here because of Ms. Kosugi then I'm going to have to ask you to leave, because we don't have the time right now to deal with some stage play fanatic's wild fantasies—"

"Kosugi? Who? I'm just visiting my mentor, Mr. Aikawa. Could you please tell me where he is?"

She glared at him, posture stiff. "I suggest you leave before I call the police. I've never heard of Kunihiko having a pupil, and besides, something about you is setting off my playboy alert. It's creeping me out. How old are you?"

Wha—who was this woman? _Not that I can deny the playboy part._ "How old might you be, Miss?" he sassed back. "Thirty?"

"Twenty-six!" she yelled indignantly.

"Doesn't look like much of a difference on you." When she raised the clipboard again, he thought better of his next comment and backed down. "Anyway, could you please call Mr. Aikawa for me?"

She surveyed Kiyoto again. It was no wonder really that she was so apprehensive of him. He had a fairly sweaty shirt on, worn jeans, a flush from the heat and a beaten up old backpack slung over his shoulder. A far cry from his usual attire, but he didn't hear anybody complaining about it. He also supposed that it was a little strange to walk into your bar and suddenly see something that didn't belong there, especially if they looked like they'd been wandering the through desert, abandoned.

Now that he thought about it, something else strange was going on here. He'd never known Kunihiko to let a lover work at his bar, even met any of his lovers there before. He generally kept the two separate, because allowing them into this part of his life meant a deeper commitment and the old man had made it clear he had no intention of ever getting serious with anyone. Much like Kiyoto, he didn't let his relationships get too serious. Much unlike Kiyoto, and admittedly probably for the better, he avoided entanglements with anyone that could lead to a scandal.

This made him wonder exactly who she was to Kunihiko.

Just then, his eyes caught a glint of metal on her hand. An engagement ring adorned her right ring finger, a dazzling piece of jewelry that, under normal circumstances, Kiyoto would have caught immediately. The weaponized clipboard must have distracted him.

_It couldn't be…._

Already curious since first sight, his interest in her rose. The sun lit the highlights in her hair, her brown eyes shone at him vividly, her lips grew fuller. The casual clothes she wore accentuated her body's every curve and dip at all the right places and angles. She seemed more attractive than Kiyoto first made her out to be, but that wasn't all. She carried an aura of independence and strength about her, one that sang of caring and kindness and support. Her personality reached him despite her defensive stance, like she was an open book that even the simplest man could read. And there was something in the steadfastness of her eyes that made him want to trust in her the same way he'd trusted another not too long ago.

He recalled that agitated feeling he had when he first saw her. _I thought so…._

The woman resembled his Miss in so many ways that he was stricken with an aching shock. An uncomfortable pang of longing struck his heart, almost painful in its intensity. He imagined stepping forward, reaching over the counter, asking her to start anew with him, so they could share a more intimate introduction to each other…

As he thought this to himself, a low, familiar voice echoed out from the hallway.


	2. Chapter 2

"Hey, what's all the commotion about? Customers?"

Kunihiko Aikawa came into view as he rounded the corner. The sight of Kiyoto's mentor banished away his sentiments. He breathed a small, unnoticeable sigh of relief for several reasons.

She drew her heavy gaze away from Kiyoto to glare at Kunihiko with a light exasperation. "Aren't you a bit late in appearing? My screaming should have been your cue to enter the scene."

He chuckled guiltily. "I thought you'd seen a bug and figured you could handle it on your own."

"A bug in the bar? You just thought it meant more work…well, I did find _something_," she amended, nodding to me.

"Ah."

Kunihiko's relaxed expression didn't change when he laid eyes upon Kiyoto. He only looked mildly surprised as he grinned, stepping past the woman to grip Kiyoto's hand in his, shaking it like that of an old buddy's. "There's a face I haven't seen in a while."

"You actually know him, Kunihiko?"

"He was my bartending pupil for a summer about two years ago." The effort of not mocking the woman where she stood behind Mr. Aikawa strained Kiyoto's facial muscles. Mr. Aikawa took a step back to inspect Kiyoto. As he scrutinized him, Kiyoto was transported back to that summer years ago. He felt like a young teenager again under the observant eye of his mentor. "It's been a while since I last saw you. You're looking better than before."

"So are you, Mr. Aikawa. Great to see you again."

Kunihiko hadn't changed much. The same hat rested atop his curly mane of strangely colored hair. He wore a brown tee over a soft pink shirt and casual jeans with a tag necklace and—this had always humored Kiyoto—_sandals _to complete the look. But his eyes appeared different. They had a happier, more content glow to them as compared to the last time the two had met. Kiyoto wondered if anything especially good had happened to him in the time that had passed.

Kiyoto smirked good-naturedly. "I bet you're about ready for a mid-life crisis, aren't you, Mr. Aikawa?"

Kunihiko laughed loudly. "You better not be calling me old. Where've you been, Kiyoto?"

"I live in Chiba prefecture now, working part-time at a bar in Ichikawa. I'm in that area for college as an art student. I'm actually going on exchange to France soon."

His eyes widened again, impressed with the news. "That's incredible. So you are using what I taught you. I'm glad you were actually able to understand my horrible lessons." He grinned proudly.

Kiyoto shook his head at Kunihiko, amused. Kunihiko thought himself a bad teacher and was well aware while mentoring that Kiyoto hadn't planned to apply the knowledge he gained to a career, but took the time to teach him anyway. His pride in his student was genuine.

"But what are you doing back here in Tokyo?" he continued. "I'd have appreciated a warning; this old man has work to do, after all."

"Pfffft."

The woman, out of nowhere, stifled a teasing giggle at something. Kunihiko glanced at her, puffing out his chest with dignity. She covered her mouth, turning her head into her hand.

"The trip was rather impulsive," Kiyoto admitted, bowing in a rare show of apology. "I'm sorry to ask a favor of my former mentor so abruptly, but could you allow me stay with you while I'm here?"

"Of c—oh, wait," Kunihiko muttered, turning to his side. Kiyoto glanced up as he queried, "That is, if this lovely lady here doesn't mind."

"Sure. I'd be glad to help a former student of Kunihiko's." The young bartender straightened at her surprising response. His breath caught just a bit at her generous smile.

Kiyoto was impressed. She'd shifted her stance on his presence so quickly. She was quick on her feet to adapt to new situations. Her appearance had begun to resemble Miss more and more by the second.

He smiled in thanks. "Thank you very much, Miss…?"

As his response trailed off, Kunihiko clapped his hands. "Oh, right. I should introduce you two." He gestured to his former pupil. "This is Kiyoto Makimura." Then he gestured to the woman, introducing her. "She's, um…my assistant, but she also works here at Long Island part-time."

She inclined her head slightly. "Nice to meet you. Let's get along well."

From Kunihiko's introduction of her, Kiyoto assumed daringly that the Miss wasn't off-limits. She and Kunihiko were standing a respectable distance apart and neither one appeared overly affectionate with the other. Low as he could sink sometimes, Kiyoto wouldn't stoop to encroaching on his mentor's lover. Not to mention the ring on her finger, which hadn't been brought up at all. Add that to the fact that she worked under him, and Kiyoto was certain that she was fair game.

He followed her gesture, corners of his mouth tilting up almost imperceptibly. "I'm looking forward to getting to know you."


	3. Chapter 3

Of all the things I knew Kunihiko to be—carefree, easily embarrassed, unpredictable, passionate, independent, capricious, hard-working—_a mentor to an arrogant barely-even-twenty-year-old playboy_ was not one of them.

I could tell the moment I laid eyes on him that Kiyoto's features were indubitably the spitting image of a particular man from several years ago during his primetime playboy days—Takamasa Saeki. I'd been around Saeki enough now, as well as the other guys who all frequented the bar, to know. There was no doubt in my mind: his arrogant confidence, his teasing smirk, the cocky tilt of his head, suggestive tone of his voice, his dark hair and sensual eyes—everything right down to that white shirt just screamed sex appeal and a knowledge of how to use it.

According to the guys, Saeki was a lot tamer now than he used to be. So if that was anything to go by, I couldn't even begin to imagine the harassment the boy in front of me with such a startling resemblance to the sadistic scriptwriter was capable of. I shivered inwardly, not wanting to pursue the thought.

Of course, not basing my opinion of him solely on that, I could see why Kunihiko might have mentored him. He looked like a womanizer, but from the discreet forlorn set of his shoulders I sensed he carried a heavy weight with him. Aside from Saeki, he also seemed incredibly similar to Kunihiko when he'd been struggling with his feelings and letting go of his past. Once I'd gotten over the initial shock of the situation, the dejected aura I detected from the boyish not-quite-man in front of me made me want to help him.

However, I wasn't quite sure what to make of the strange look he had given me earlier. I couldn't decipher the meaning behind his stunned expression he'd had on his face just before Kunihiko walked in, or the relief that cleared it away as his former teacher addressed him. I let it go temporarily; for now I would have to do my best to accommodate Kunihiko's pupil, as my duty as the woman who stood beside him.

I smiled softly, putting a foot in front of myself as I turned around, expecting him to follow. "Allow me to show you the room upstairs. I think you'll find it quite comfortable."

Kiyoto tilted his head slightly. "Thank you, very much."

I handed Kunihiko my clipboard and pleaded with him in hushed tones, "Hurry and take inventory while I'm showing Mr. Makimura upstairs so we can go shopping before we open."

"Yes, yes." He grinned secretively, bringing the clipboard up to his face to hide it from Kiyoto's view, lowering his voice even further. "What's with the lecturing tone? As I recall, the reason we didn't get it done before was _you. _You _were_ the one who initiated that little adventure in the stock room before, weren't you?…"

I felt my face redden, still able to flush from hearing him whisper such things to me with that voice, even after all the time we'd been together. "It's too early for stuff like that!" I huffed warningly, contradicting my earlier actions. Yes, I _had_ been the one to hold us up this morning, but that was…

"That opening was too opportune a moment to pass up," I murmured defensively to myself. When he'd been checking the uppermost shelves of the stock room racks, his shirt had slid up slightly, exposing a sliver of his lower torso to me. I couldn't resist reaching out; after all, he always seemed to get the jump on me, tickling me without a moment's notice in my most sensitive places. I'd been itching to get back at him but had yet to find a weak spot. So, when presented with the opportunity to discover it, it wasn't as though I could ignore that opening.

_And yet, I still failed miserably…._ As soon as I'd been an inch away, Kunihiko had spun around, grabbing my wrist with one hand and tickling me with the other, aware what I'd been after. Begrudgingly, I added in an even lower tone, "I'll have to find another chance later."

"What was that?" he asked, pretending to look confused.

I blushed a deeper shade when I realized he'd heard me. The more intently he watched me, the more memories of this morning and last night started to flit through my mind. Seeing me grow increasingly red, he suddenly looked away, wiping his hand across his nose. A very faint blush crept onto his cheeks as our gazes broke apart. I cleared my throat, realizing distantly that we were in the presence of another person_. After all this time, we can still get embarrassed about these things, huh?_

I beckoned Kiyoto forward. He was watching us with a startling acuity. I felt uncomfortable under his intense stare, wondering what made him look so intense.

As we were about to ascend the stairs, Kunihiko called out to Kiyoto. "Hey Kiyoto, as long as you're here, why don't you help out at the bar for a bit? The guys would be excited to see you back again."

_He knows the gang?_ I wondered. Aloud, I berated Kunihiko's suggestion. "You're just trying to get some free labor!"

He laughed, his free hand rubbing his neck. He didn't deny it. I sighed, exasperated but amused. "It would be much appreciated."

Kiyoto nodded to him. "Sure."

"Haha, thanks. I'll be taking inventory, then." As he disappeared into the back room, we started up the stairs.

I opened the door, standing aside so Kiyoto could enter. I watched him as he set his backpack down, taking in his surroundings. He resembled a curious kitten as he explored his new home. He opened the pink curtains and shut them again, wincing at the flash of brightness. Then he turned the bedside lamp on and off, checked his reflection in the mirror, opened every last drawer and shut it, and followed all that by pressing his hands down on the mattress of the bed, feeling its firmness. He nodded in approval, languidly lowering himself onto the sheets.

_Is he planning on taking a nap?_ I thought I should give him some privacy to get settled in, and so I turned to exit.

"Hmmm."

At his loud exhalation, I paused, looking back at him again. He sounded frustrated. "Is something the matter?"

"This bed is missing something very important."

I cocked my head slightly. It appeared whole and fine to me. "Is there…Can I get you something?"

He opened his eyes wide enough to watch me as I stood there pondering his words. "How about a beautiful lady to help me fill this bed? It's too big for just one person, Miss." He pouted, his similarity to a cat increasing with his hungry, enticing eyes.

"…"

I cocked an eyebrow. "How about a glass of water? I'll bring it up for you right away," I offered, deciding to ignore his weird comment. As soon as I'd turned my back again, he shot up and grabbed my arm as I tried to pull the door shut.

"I didn't say water. I meant _you._"

"Surely you must want a beverage. Let me just go get it…" I offered him a clearly strained smile.

"Surely you're not so naïve. Why don't you stay here a bit longer, miss?"

His hand slid down my forearm, fingertips lightly tracing a path down to my wrist. I stared at him, wondering how serious this kid could be. I resisted the urge to smack his hand away; it'd be rude to spite a guest of Kunihiko's, and besides, I really should have foreseen a situation like this. As I'd noted earlier, I had been around the guys long enough now to be able to sense a pervert or a playboy when I saw one, so I rebuked myself for letting my guard down around him for even a moment.

"Mr. Makimura, I'd appreciate it if you'd let go of my arm so I can go get that glass of water for you." I smiled softly, attempting to relax my facial muscles. "Now, if you'd be so kind." I reinforced the insistence of my words by tugging my arm back.

He responded by tugging even harder, reaffirming his gentle grip and bringing my hand up to his mouth, flicking his tongue out to lick the inside of my wrist. "Speaking of kindness, I wanted to repay your generosity and make up for scaring you earlier. Got any ideas of what I can do for you? I've got a few of my own I'm ready to offer."

I shot him a warning glance, taking a step back. "How about releasing me, please?"

He clicked his tongue. "That's no fun." He advanced on me, tugging my wrist so hard now that I released the doorknob and stumbled forward into his chest. He grabbed my other wrist and swung the door shut with his foot, pinning me against it, wrapping my arms around his waist. I found his face mere inches away, and though he only leaned into me slightly I could feel the tension coming from him. He was assuming control of our struggle.

I tried to wriggle out of his hold, but one look at his face and I remembered where my arms were. I'd unintentionally pulled him closer. He smirked. "That's much better, don't you think?"

"Mr. Makimura, what do you think you're doing?" I uttered in furious disbelief.

He _tsk_ed. "I don't like it when you talk to me so formally. Call me Kiyoto."

"Mr. Makimura—"

"Kiyoto," he warned, his lips approaching my skin threateningly.

"Kiyoto," I forced out through gritted teeth, feeling tense. "Let me go now."

His hot breath hit my skin. I shook with incredulity at his obvious persistence even after I'd deigned to answer him. "Let me repay your generosity," he murmured seductively, mouth nearing mine ever so slowly. "And we can start over with a much more…_intimate_ introduction."

I fisted my hands, digging my nails into my skin to repress the urge to break free and punch him square in his pride. I did acknowledge that any other woman in this position might have been eager to yield to this young man's solicitations. He was undoubtedly attractive, his skilled advancements moving beyond provoking and right into arousal. Even I could tell that his confidence in his these actions was not unfounded; he'd had more than enough experience seducing women.

Unfortunately for him, I was _not _any other woman, and I wouldn't be swayed.

I leaned back as far as I could. The back of my skull hit the door. I jerked my right hand out of his grasp, waving it at him, showing off my diamond ring. "Sorry, but I'm spoken for. Why not go out and find someone who'd actually be tempted by you and let go of me?"

He smirked, taking advantage of my move. Using one hand to keep my still captured hand around his waist, he wrapped his free one around mine and pinned it above my head. "Do you think a ring on your finger changes anything?"

I watched with unease as his expression changed. It said, _You're so simple._ God, how I wanted to just shove my knee upwards to teach his prepubescent hormones a lesson. "Yes…you know I have a fiancé. I'm not going to be coaxed into anything by you."

He looked into my eyes. His were laughing, obviously at me, but still managed to retain that alluring glint. "I accept that challenge—I've beaten it too many times to count. Having a fiancee won't make me quit. In fact, you only seem more attractive because of it. Can't you feel the effect you have on me?"

I gritted my teeth, only feeling more offended by the second. Who was he to think he had the right to push himself on me like this? His arrogance was stifling. I glared fiercely.

He chuckled low in his throat. "You're cute when you're angry too, you know. It's getting me all riled up."

I took a deep breath, trying desperately to quell my anger. "What makes you think I'd be aroused by you at all? I'm more than content with my husband. I've no interest in an affair, so please give up now."

He inclined his head mockingly. "Don't you know that love is free, Miss? I'm sure your hubby's nothing special compared to me. I can satisfy you much more than he ever could—"

"!"

At his words, I drew up my knee as far as I could, putting all my strength behind a swift kick to his shins before he had a chance to think. He leapt back in shock, releasing me. He shifted his weight to the opposite leg, testing the damage. I watched his expression twist. I felt more proud of what I'd done than relieved at being released. I hadn't done anything to prevent the potential existence of his future offspring, though I'd have liked to.

"Oww…that was foul play, Miss—"

He broke off, suddenly gaping at me in shock. I didn't pay much attention to this, instead openly displaying disappointment as I looked down on him.

"Don't underestimate adults. You should feel ashamed of yourself for mocking us like that. You've got quite a distorted, despicable way of thinking, you know? And you have the gall to call yourself Kunihiko's student."

He watched me silently, seeming to size up my words as I prepared to leave, but otherwise too stunned to say anything more. He knew he'd lost.

"Please don't bother me about something like this anymore." I opened the door and stepped out, softly shutting it behind me.

As I stormed down the stairs, oblivious to my surroundings, I only felt a little guilty about using force to escape him, and began worrying whether I'd hurt him too badly. On the other hand, he'd deserved it. Part of me returned to the wonder of how Kunihiko could have taken someone such as him on as a disciple. He'd disrespected his own mentor without a second thought, and in such a vulgar manner.

The other part felt like it was missing something vital in understanding Kiyoto's actions, but I couldn't focus on it with my anger still churning beneath the surface. Passing the stock room, I plopped down onto my bar stool and rested my hot head on the cool counter, releasing a deep sigh and the tension I'd held with it. I slumped, exhausted and wanting a nap, despite knowing we still had to open the bar not too soon from now. I groaned with melancholy in anticipation of the long night ahead.


	4. Chapter 4

Kiyoto watched her as she left, the throbbing ache in his shin and of his head the only lingering evidence of her presence. He collapsed, sliding down the bedpost in some kind of strange exhaustion as he rubbed the bruised skin. What he'd seen as she'd pushed him away with all her might had taken his breath away.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose with his fingers. He'd made a mistake, the consequences of which he couldn't foresee.

At first, he'd been able to identify her not as his Miss, but as the person Kunihiko had introduced her as. They didn't look exactly alike or anything. The resemblance was mostly a product of his wild imagination. He did have to admit that the woman standing in front of him presently was much more independent and confident in herself than his Miss had ever been. And though he'd said as much, she was not nearly as cute as his Miss when she was upset.

But when he'd started closing in on her, their similarity, no matter how slight, disoriented him, causing him to lose his senses in the midst of his ardent desire. Despite himself, despite his conviction in the end never to see her again, all he could think of was the incredible night he'd shared with the Miss just days before, how badly he'd lusted for more.

His thoughts had been filled with nothing but her and the desperate wish to paint her likeness onto a canvas so she could appreciate tangibly how strongly he felt. No matter how many times he'd told her beforehand, no matter what words he used, it never seemed to be enough.

_Maybe then, _he'd hoped, _maybe then she'll accept how serious I am_.

He hadn't felt that invested in a relationship since he'd been betrayed by Risa. He hadn't allowed himself to release those feelings through those familiar, soothing brushstrokes, much less feel them in the first place. He hadn't wanted that deeper meaning to interfere with his lifestyle.

Those sentiments shifted as he interacted with her, changed with his growing feelings until they were too much to bear and he refused to let her leave his side again. Arrogantly, he assumed her feelings to be the same. But she'd had other aims. Yet she'd given into his persistent offer and allowed him to take her body as she abandoned her heart somewhere along the way.

To her, it was their final encounter. She'd hoped for him to give up after their heated night together—she had her decision made. He'd hoped for her to want to stay past their awakening, and had woken up to the day in which she backhandedly crushed his beliefs in a single swipe. Neither wish achieved actualization. She left with a resolute goodbye, leaving his mind a jumbled, furious mess.

It was yet another betrayal. It tore him inside to know he'd allowed himself to weaken to the point where he'd be shocked, even saddened, to watch yet another woman leave his side for a what was surely a lesser man.

He heaved a deep sigh. Scratching the back of his neck, Kiyoto stared up at the ceiling. It was those memories that had confused him to the point of pushing Kunihiko's employee up against the door. He wouldn't regret it—he didn't live with regrets. Of course, it could have been their intermingling personalities that affected him to this point of disturbance. Nonetheless, he didn't want to leave such a rude impression on her.

_What have I done? _he thought, smiling deprecatingly at himself. _Is this what I get for falling in love again?_

Kiyoto dry washed his face with his palms as a knock sounded at the closed door. Deftly, he hefted himself up and threw the door open. "Yes?"

To his utter surprise—in the midst of his sulking he'd completely forgotten where he was—in the hallway outside the door stood Kunihiko, looking as carefree as ever as he lounged with one hand against the wall. He asked, "Have you settled in yet?"

"Yeah. Thank you again for allowing me to stay here," Kiyoto replied formally, doing his best to hide the twitch of his eyebrow every time a shock stole up his injured limb. Slowly, the pain was ebbing away, replaced by a manageable dull ache.

"Great. Later, if you don't mind, there's somewhere I'd like to take you while you're here."

"You couldn't possibly be desperate enough to ask _me_ out on a date, could you?"

"Don't get your hopes up," Kunihiko quipped back.

"Then what is it?"

His mentor gave him a secretive smirk. Anticipation gleamed in his bright eyes. "I think it's something you ought to see. Just agree."

Kiyoto gave him a confused look, but answered, "Fine," and began to step out of the room.

Swiftly, Kunihiko stopped him. "Let's go sometime before you leave. I have to open the bar soon."

_Oh, that's right_. His mentor actually had a job other than lazing around to do. "Tomorrow?"

"I've got a meeting at the company, so let's go Sunday. Sorry I won't be around to entertain you much, but there's a wonderful world outside, and a hostess downstairs who'll readily accept youthful sacrifices."

"_What?"_

"If you're bored, feel free to work at the bar for a bit, like old times. Did you think I wouldn't hold you to that promise you made earlier?" he chuckled with a twinkle in his eye. "I'll have the hostess work you 'til you drop."

Kiyoto smirked. "I'm prepared for that."

Another chuckle escaped his mentor's mouth. "I'm not sure I like that look on your face." He clapped a hand on Kiyoto's shoulder and started to walk away, glancing back to give Kiyoto a meaningful look which he couldn't quite decipher. "Don't get into any trouble while I'm out, Kiyoto." He waved his hand lazily as he walked down the hallway. "Later," Kiyoto's mentor called out just as he rounded the corner, leaving Kiyoto standing there confused, wondering what his mentor could possibly have meant with those last parting words.

Kunihiko and Kiyoto left late Sunday afternoon, only a few hours before Kiyoto's train back to Ichikawa was to depart. As he stepped out of the room he'd lived in for the past two days, following Kunihiko down the stairs and out the bar at a leisurely pace, he noted that Kunihiko's assistant was nowhere to be seen as they exited.

"Something wrong?" Kunihiko asked, swinging his head momentarily to glance back at Kiyoto. He'd perceptively picked up on his stalling gait.

"Not at all," he replied easily, picking up speed. Her whereabouts were none of his concern.

The two of them traveled down a few streets, walking at a slow, unhurried pace. Kunihiko made light conversation, joking often. Kiyoto discussed the awards he'd received and some of the painting jobs he'd been hired for, tactfully avoiding any events that specifically involved his Miss. Kunihiko didn't seem to pick up on Kiyoto's growing sulkiness.

He continued to lead Kiyoto down the hectic chaos of Tokyo at sunset, politely yet cheerfully greeting any passerby who greeted him with the kind of awed recognition reserved for celebrities. Their trip had only consumed ten minutes so far, but the longer they walked and the more Kunihiko stopped, the more Kiyoto wondered briefly if Kunihiko even had a destination in mind. He dismissed the thought. _He wouldn't have taken time out of his day to show me how popular he is._

He silently observed his mentor's jovial interactions with curious onlookers who stopped to see what his laughter was about. As he stared quietly, too absorbed in his thoughts to make a move on the sexy brunette eyeing him from behind the cover of another woman, Kiyoto's mind started to drift back to the past couple days.

He tried to remember whether he'd ripped that sketch he'd drawn of the Miss while she slept out of his sketchbook. _I'll have to look for it later. That expression was pretty interesting, as long as you looked past her gaping mouth…_

Kiyoto absently resumed walking when Kunihiko did. In his periphery he could see the brunette's obvious disappointed expression. He ignored it. Ahead of him, Kunihiko paused, gesturing ahead to a hill rising from the park they'd been strolling through. Kiyoto glanced up, wincing slightly as the bright midday sun hit his eyes. His glasses were sitting on the dresser in the room at the bar. In lieu, he lifted his hand. The muscles on his face relaxed as the shade it created covered his eyes.

"That's our destination," Kunihiko declared. A mysterious grin passed over his expression as he began ascending the path up. Kiyoto pondered what business hecould have on the top of a hill, but said nothing aloud, simply choosing to trail his mentor.

The sun lit Kunihiko's profile from his front, darkening his back and outlining an aura of shadows and mystery around the man, though he was nothing of the sort. He rested his elbows on the metal railings circling the concrete platform atop the hill, lounging with a relaxed posture as he stared out at the city view ahead. Kiyoto stood a little ways behind him, admiring how at ease his teacher was. His life felt like it was in turmoil.

Kunihiko's chest rose as he breathed in deeply, inhaling the scent of the city, its heat and the earthy perfume of the park's grass, all of which made Kiyoto feel tranquil inside. It settled in him like the presence an estranged friend would give off; that nostalgic sentiment and sense of returning a place he hadn't been to in years.

Kiyoto had never before seen this hilltop. Nonetheless, Kunihiko's palpable serenity engulfed him in the speculation that this place wasn't _just _a hilltop. From the set of his mentor's shoulders, he guessed that there was a history here filled with warm memories—so many Kiyoto could never hope to know. He wanted to know why he'd been brought here.

Not one to be shy or reserved, Kiyoto asked, "Mr. Aikawa, what did we come here for?"

Kunihiko glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, the ghost of a smile flashing across his features. "Kiyoto, do you have anything you treasure?"

Kiyoto blinked at Kunihiko's question several times. "Treasure?" Shaking off his unsurety, he thought to himself for a moment. "Not particularly," he replied honestly. Not his paintings, not his memories, not even _her_; he couldn't say he held anything especially close to his heart, as long as he ignored that throbbing thing his heart was doing.

Having gotten his answer, Kunihiko continued. "Do you know what it's like to lose something you love?"

Kiyoto's eyes narrowed involuntarily. "Not particularly," he repeated, his voice considerably lower. "And you?"

Kunihiko put a hand to his chin, deep in thought. "I lost someone important to me several years ago, in an accident that I blamed myself for for the longest time. After that, I'd never hold anything close to my heart. As punishment for my mistakes I vowed never to seek out happiness from that point on. I became stuck in the past."

His words struck a chord in Kiyoto's chest. A slight breeze ruffled Kiyoto's hair as he listened carefully to his mentor's solemn words. It wasn't everyday that Kunihiko Aikawa was serious like this. Kiyoto couldn't recall a single day he'd been around him where there hadn't been a goofy smile on his face. To see him so serious all of a sudden was certainly a novelty. Kiyoto had never known anything about this deceased friend of his mentor's, and understood now why his eyes had never quite been as happy as they should have been. Kunihiko's eyelids lowered slowly, shielding the ache in his eyes as he gave his words uncharacteristically deep thought.

"About a year and a half ago, someone special re-entered my life. That person, despite the complicated circumstances surrounding our relationship, worked with her whole heart to convince me that I didn't have to live my life that way, that it was okay to move on, accept happiness, give and receive love again. Without realizing it, she'd begun to move my stilled time forward again. If not for her, I'm sure I'd still be the person I was when you were my student. I'm beginning to move on. I have her to thank for that."

_It was all her doing_…

Kunihiko's eyes lifted slowly to the scene in front of him again. He seemed content, his smile softer than Kiyoto had ever seen it as he said, "This hilltop is where I first told her how I felt, and is the exact same place in which I formally proposed to her."

Kiyoto's eyes widened. _Proposed…?_

"We still have many hurdles ahead to overcome before we can hold a ceremony, but we've come a long way. I treasure every gift she's ever given me, but she, by my side, is what I treasure most. "

_Miss…._ Kiyoto thought of her longingly, despite trying desperately to fight back the images his mentor's words evoked. He didn't love her. Didn't, not even a bit. She'd betrayed him, after all.

At long last, Kunihiko lifted himself away from the bar and faced Kiyoto. Very aware of the battle raging in Kiyoto's heart from his expression but continuing anyway, Kunihiko said bluntly, "Kiyoto, it's terrifying to even come close to losing something that you treasure with all your heart. It could happen suddenly, without warning, no matter how happy you are, and crush and tear you apart."

_Miss…._

_No, stop thinking about her!_

Kiyoto stiffened at Kunihiko's words, fighting to keep their effect at bay. His story, his observations about life that he could only have gained from experiencing such things himself, all of it hit too close to a home locked away deep in Kiyoto's being. _Why is he telling me all this?_ he wondered.

_I don't want to hear it, _Kiyoto thought stubbornly.

_No matter how right he may be._

Just as Kiyoto was about to say something idiotic to break this somber atmosphere, not wanting him to go on, Kunihiko placed a gentle hand on Kiyoto's head, patting it gently.

"I learned this again and again every time I almost lost her: if that time comes, it's important to remember to fight through it. Everyone is caught up by their emotions when they run too strong, but you have to keep a clear head. Never turn your back on what you want and what has to be done to get that, Kiyoto. Keep believing in that person, okay? You don't want to miss each other."

With a final pat on his shoulder, Kunihiko announced that it was getting late and they should get back. "Too much seriousness for this old man," he joked. "It's about time I opened the bar, don't you think? Man, I hope there'll be new customers today."

"Mr. Aikawa…" Kiyoto trailed off, unsure of what to say in response. His whole mind was blank with stupefication, body frozen. How could he process all of that and know what it meant at once?

Kunihiko indicated that he understood, chuckling to himself as he gave Kiyoto a light push. "You're too young for your own good."

"You're speaking like an old man again," Kiyoto commented, the return downhill relaxing his stiffened muscles.

"Ah!" Kunihiko caught himself. "We can't have that."

They enjoyed a lighthearted journey back to the bar. Kiyoto was still mystified over what Kunihiko had told him, but put it in the back of his mind for later analysis. They were outside the bar when Kunihiko stopped, his hand resting against the door to Long Island.

Kiyoto watched him curiously. Kunihiko looked at Kiyoto standing next to him with the most piercing glare he'd ever received. He hadn't known his mentor could have such a stern expression; he almost cringed away in instinct.

"Kiyoto, should you deign to lay a finger on my wife ever again, I think you'll discover true devastation before your time. I assume you'll want children someday, right?"

Kiyoto blanched at this most uncharacteristic threat. Was the person in front of him even Kunihiko Aikawa?

But before he could process the threat thoroughly, just as he'd done earlier, Kunihiko reverted back to the easygoing person he was, no hint of danger evident in his laid back posture. Kiyoto couldn't understand anything today, it seemed.

He huffed out a breath as he followed Kunihiko inside the open bar. The clinking of several glasses reached them across the space; the Long Island regulars all called out surprised but cheery greetings at Kiyoto's sudden appearance. He gave them all a wicked smile as they pounded his back excitedly. Ren and Takao congratulated him for everything they'd heard Kiyoto had accomplished. Yamato inquired about his studies; Kiyoto cunningly worked his way around the question. Yuta stood with his elbows crossed behind Saeki as the bachelor gripped Kiyoto's shoulders and together they stared deeply into his eyes—Kiyoto raised his eyebrows—Saeki and Yuta nodded in proud approval—Kiyoto nodded back with mutual understanding. Someone suggested that Kiyoto bartend for them before he left, an invitation he accepted enthusiastically.

His hands worked adeptly, displaying the wide repertoire of skills he'd accumulated over the past two years. As he served them in much the same manner he used to (for some unknown reason he received more than several requests for shochu on the rocks) Kiyoto's mind kept drifting back to what his mentor had told him on the hillside.

_What was he trying to tell me? _Kiyoto mulled over Kunihiko's words. _Was that conversation a wise old guy's crack at giving the youngster meaningful advice, or did he actually intend for me to glean something from all that?_ He couldn't be sure what to make of it.

Yet despite his stubbornness, Kiyoto felt his mentor's kind words stirring deep within his heart. Maybe Kunihiko understood what Kiyoto was feeling and was attempting to give him a push in the right direction. Kiyoto felt sudden respect for the old man. _He's not as untroubled as I make him out to be, after all._

The guys broke out in laughter at something on the television. Kiyoto rejoined the conversation, discreetly eyeing his mentor where he resided besides his "assistant." After what he'd heard today, and after seeing Kunihiko sitting next to her with such a loving, joyful light in his eyes, Kiyoto had been enlightened to the reality of their relationship without hearing it titled clearly.

He felt a little envious of them, but even more than that, grateful that Kunihiko had found someone who he could put so much faith and respect into, who he could trust wholly with his happiness, and vice versa. They'd obviously come a long way to achieve that level of comfort and ease with each other—it was a little sickeningly sweet, but they would often simply look into the others eyes and smile, as though that was enough to communicate. By watching them interact, his mentor's enlightening sentiments began to make sense. He knew why his mentor had finally decided to settle down.

Kiyoto wasn't sure he'd ever reach that level with her—and it'd take a hell of a long time before he could redeem himself enough to her again—but he'd be damned not to give the woman he loved his all.

So it was with an invigorated smile that Kiyoto stopped running and finally prepared to leave Long Island, for the first time ever looking ahead to the journey in front of him.


	5. Epilogue

They'd just seen Kiyoto off and were taking a slow stroll back to their apartment together when the woman walking beside him spoke up.

"Kunihiko, did you say something to him?"

"Hmm?"

He briefly met her eyes in the semi-darkness. She looked ethereal in the moonlight's soft glow, a beauty that would make even the most articulate of poets struggle for words. He gave her a soft smile, stretching his elbow out, hands resting in his pockets. She took it wordlessly, without hesitation. His smile grew almost imperceptibly.

"He seemed different when he left."

"How so?"

She put a finger to her chin and tapped it. "Well, his face looked so smug and sure of himself the whole way to the station. I get the feeling that's how it always looks, but for some reason that arrogance made me feel happy for him. Also, he wouldn't look me in the eye even once. I wonder what that was about."

A low chuckle escaped Kunihiko's throat. "Maybe he felt guilty for throwing himself on you earlier."

"N-no, that wasn't it." She tried to sneak a look up at him, and thought herself successful because she didn't look away for several moments. He kept his eyes focused on the passing scenery, knowing she would understand on her own. She swiveled her head back to the path ahead. "Well, whatever changed, I'm glad he seemed so rejuvenated."

"You think so? I suppose he did appear a bit deflated when he greeted me. I mean, he's never bowed to me once. He always calls me an immature, carefree old man." Kunihiko grimaced slightly as though offended, but Kiyoto's humor at Kunihiko's expense never failed to amuse him. The young man's boyish attitude certainly hadn't changed in the two years they hadn't met, even if many other things had.

"Aren't you?"

"Why, you…"

"He's not the most eloquent of people, is he?"

"He doesn't even make the top million list."

She smiled suddenly, eyelids lowering with consideration. "Even so, he's really a kind person deep inside. I hope whatever was weighing him down is resolved soon. He deserves some happiness."

Kunihiko glanced at her in pleasant surprise. "So you noticed…"

Continuing, she mused, "He looks like a combination of you and Saeki, to be honest. It's a little freakish."

"_What?_" He laughed loudly. "I agree about Saeki. They were like brothers back then. Together, they were worse than me." He lifted his free arm to scratch at the back of his neck, working through the insinuation of her words. "But to say he resembles me…"

Her head shook slightly. "That's not quite it. What I mean is—"

Kunihiko watched as her hair tossed back and forth over her shoulder before halting their walk to brush it back behind her ear. Instinctively, she stopped and closed her eyes, expecting a kiss. He leaned down, inches away and waited a second, just admiring her expression. "What do you mean, then?" His hand stroked her cold cheek, which quickly warmed as her eyes reopened and she flushed slightly in open embarrassment at her actions.

"I mean, he looks the way you did back when you were so caught up in your past that you couldn't look to the future. It made me want to help him somehow."

Her eyes shone earnestly at him. He felt like he could gaze into their honest depths for the rest of his life and never tire of them once. "That's exactly what I thought."

Her mouth dropped to a tiny "O" before the corners of her lips turned up in a pleased smile. Her face brightened. "Thank you, Kunihiko."

Even though there were no people around, out of habit Kunihiko hesitated to bring their faces closer. _Maybe we should go on a vacation to France soon_… he thought longingly as he remembered the work he had to care of tomorrow. So instead, he took her hand in his, laughing internally at the disappointment on her face when he didn't kiss her. She couldn't reach him as easily with their height difference.

"I can only hope he'll take what I said to heart."

"But I know he listened to you," she said softly as they resumed their stroll. Their home was only a block away now. "His face wasn't that of someone who'd given up on moving forward."

In the shadow of the looming building, Kunihiko pulled her aside and wrapped his arms tightly around his fiancée. When he'd watched Kiyoto that weekend, lost in his melancholy thoughts, he'd recognized the abandon with which he invested himself in daily activities. It was something he'd experienced once himself, long ago.

He closed his eyes contentedly as her arms wrapped around him in a gentle embrace. She buried her face in his chest in a moment of supportive, comprehending silence.

They both leaned back slightly. Their lips met in a sweet, tender touch.

"Kunihiko…" she breathed. He pushed her hair behind her ear, meeting her lips for another, deeper kiss before pulling away. A small smile stole its way across his face as he grabbed her hand gently and tugged it, taking a step towards the entrance.

"It's cold. Let's go inside now."

She nodded as she followed him, and they returned quietly, wordlessly, to the home that awaited them.


End file.
